


Bad Moon Rising

by dreamers_wonderland



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, If its creepy it'll probably be in here at some point, Includes witches, Monster Hunters, Other, Supernatural Creatures, Werewolves, includes monsters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 10:18:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 9,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16890693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamers_wonderland/pseuds/dreamers_wonderland
Summary: You didn't ask for a pet, let alone one that decided to force his way into your life because he just felt like it. No, scratch that. Because he wanted a place to sleep for the night.What a jerk.Slow Burn.





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lethargicProfessor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethargicProfessor/gifts).



> SO! I finally decided to move things over, including this gem. I love this story to pieces. It's near and dear to my heart. So, I hope you guys enjoy this. It's gonna be MASS updated over the next few days. Be on the look out. And, well, I hope you enjoy.

“So back up.” You took a long swig of your drink, staring over the glass and the man across from you. “You’re a what?”

“A werewolf,” Jesse McCree grunted for the third time. He was starting to regret opening up to you, trying to explain why you had found him in the garage on a baby-girl-pink blanket where you had left a canine that was suspiciously wolf like. Maybe an explanation of how he broke in to escape the cold would have worked if you didn’t live in New Mexico and it wasn’t climbing into the eighties in the dead of night. You had demanded an explanation or you were shooting him for trespassing.

And this was the explanation.

“A werewolf,” you repeated after another drawn out swig. He nodded, burying his face in a ratty sweatshirt that had once belonged to your dad. Or at least one sleeve of it. The other hung empty at his side, due to the fact that he had lost his prosthetic arm somewhere between transforming and arriving in your care.

Or, at least, that’s what he claimed.

You stood to refill your glass.

“Specifically, a Mexican Gray Wolf, if that helps,” he said.

“Nooooooot really,” you drawled. He groaned and dropped his head back, swearing a few Spanish swears that you barely caught. You threw him a dirty look over your shoulder. After a moment, he perked up.

“Oh!! I can prove it!! Call my ‘apa, he’ll back me up!” he said with a grin. “Cross my heart.” You turned to him, leaning back against your counter, taking yet another long drink. McCree released a hilariously high pitched whine. He stood, tugging up the much too large sweatpants to stay around his hips. “I’m not crazy, honest to God,” he swore.

“So you want me to just take your word and the word of your pops…?” you asked slowly. “Neither of whom I know…at all?”

The man nodded.

“I’m callin’ the cops.”

“NO PLEASE WAIT!!!”

He lunged across the kitchen, snatching your cell phone out of your hand. “L-Look, um…” He swiped the back of his hand across his face. “I-If I take ya to where my clothes and shit are…where my arm is…w-would you believe me then??”

“It’s not out in someone’s trees is it?” you asked, reaching for your phone.

“N-No, out in the desert.”

“Oh goody, that’s exactly what I need,” you sighed. Grabbing a bottle of water, you started to fill it. “You know what? I’m expected at work tonight so if I don’t show up, they’ll probably call me and then the cops when they can’t get ahold of me,” you said. You turned around and held out your hand for your phone. “So we’ll go. Now give me my phone before I kick your ass.”

“Oh bless your heart, you’re my hero.”

“Shut up.”


	2. Desert(ed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's lots of swearing. Granted, this is rated mature. So...

You had found yourself camped out in your car in the middle of the desert, watching Jesse McCree as he pulled a bag out a large grouping of prickly pear cactus. You could hear him swear when his arm got caught on one. Rolling your eyes, you opened the door and leaned out of it.

“Okay, I’m done with this charade, stranger!!”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not lying?” he shouted back at you. He fished around in the bag, pulling out a set of clothes and shoes before finding a phone at the bottom of it. Another second had him pulling off the sweatshirt and carefully adjusting a prosthetic arm. You flopped back into the driver’s seat, checking the time. You still had a few hours before your shift. You could drive home and take a proper shower.

Jesse jogged up to your car and dropped his bag.

“Okay, I have proof.”

“Calling your papi isn’t gonna change my mind, friendo,” you drawled.

He scrunched his face up as he scrolled through his phone. “First up, darlin’, lets agree to never,” he emphasized this with a lift of his eyebrows, “Ever call Reyes papi again, that word is ruined for me.” You snorted and held back a laugh. “Second, no. That is not what was I gonna do.” He held out his phone as he played a video. You glanced over and felt your cheeks flush.

“Okay, I got a decent view of Full Frontal McCree this morning, I don’t need to see another one,” you said, looking away.

“No no no no,” he crouched and patted your knee, “That’s not why I’m showing you this I promise!!” You refused to look back at the phone. He whined your name and pulled it back to him, restarting the video. “C’mon, please I promise just watch it and you’ll understand!!”

You sucked on your teeth and snatched the phone away, leveling him with a glare. “If this is just some elaborate ruse to rob me or something, I give your props. But I will take your arm and beat you with it, no joke,” you said. He lifted his hands up.

“Promise. Cross my heart. No games, nena,” he said. You leaned back in your seat, staring at him long and hard. After another minute, you looked at the phone and pressed play. A very naked McCree stared back at you, rather far away from the phone camera, and at an odd angle. You squinted and tilted the phone.

“Where is this?”

“Out here. I killed my fuckin’ battery makin’ this video. But I wanted to see what happened from like…” he waved his hands in front of his face, clicking his tongue in frustration, “de orto angulo? Uh…”

“I got you,” you murmured. Your brow knitted together as you watched. A loud, dull crack made you drop the phone in your lap. Another made you cringe, and you desperately wanted to look away as the McCree in the video crumbled to the dirt, crying out in pain. Jesse leaned into the car, bumping his head against yours.

“Ya know, I’ve never actually watched this yet,” he whispered in awe. You didn’t say anything, didn’t move as his form in the frame changed from a man writhing in pain to a wolf rolling across the dirt to stand. The wolf ran out of the frame and a loud howl filled your car, swiftly followed by another that must have been in the distance. Jesse scooped up his phone and exited the video. “Neat,” he said with a grin.

“You’re a fuckin’ werewolf,” you wheezed, dragging your hands down your face. You leaned your head into your steering wheel. “Oh my Goooooooood you’re a fuckin’ werewolf.”

“I told you,” Jesse sang with a shit eating grin. You turned in your seat and pressed your foot into his stomach, shoving him away. He rolled backwards, feet over head, with an oof and a cackle. You pulled the door shut and locked it, fumbling for your keys. He knocked on your window. “Hey no don’t leave me out here I need a ride back!”

“Call your papi,” you snapped, whining when you dropped your keys under your seat, “I’m sure all y’all werewolves run some kinda taxi service.” You shoved your keys in your ignition and turned your car over, pulling away from a distraught and somewhat confused McCree.

He watched as you drove back towards the road, throwing his hands into the air. “You drove out here with me thinkin’ I was a murderer and that was fine!” he shouted after you. He coughed as the dirt rolled back towards him, stepping back over his things. Knowing you weren’t turning around, he pulled out his phone to call Reyes. A black screen stared back at him, a sign of a dead battery. He dropped his head back. “Fuckin’ DAMMIT!”


	3. Reyes

“And here is your receipt! Enjoy the rest of your night!” Your all too chipper voice fell on deaf ears as your customer walked out. Your plastic smile dropped and you turned to continue your final closing chores. Sweeping the small clothing store, straightening out misplaced items, making sure everything was restocked and prepared for the morning staff. You were by yourself, which while you appreciated you also disliked. You wouldn’t be out of the store as fast as you wanted if you were by yourself. That, and the mall that you worked in tended to turn off its parking lot lights half an hour after closing. It made walking to your car an experience, to say the least.

As you worked, you kept your back to the door, focusing on a checklist that your manager would leave every closing staff member. You heard muffled voices and heavy footfalls on the wood of your store and refrained from releasing an annoyed sigh. You set down your pen and turned, smile already in place.

“Welcome in— no.”

“ _Mocoso_  what did you do to her that she  **already**  hates you, huh?” an older man asked of the grinning McCree.

“Get out,” you said as you waved your hand, motioning him away, “Only service dogs allowed in here.”

The older man turned to Jesse, clearing his throat and crossing his arms. Jesse fixed the battered cowboy hat on his head. You hadn’t seen it before. It must have been in that bag of his.

“She may uh….know. About….stuff….”

“ **May**  know?” the man huffed, “ _¿Que chingados hiciste?_  Is this why you dragged me all the way out here?”

“I didn’t drag you, man, you  **drove** , so…”

“Don’t be a fuckin’ smartass.”

You waved your arms, cutting off whatever reply Jesse would have given. “I’m gonna take a shot in the dark and say you’re his old man, right?” you asked. He looked over and a polite smile spread across his features. You shared one and introduced yourself, holding out your hand.

“Gabriel Reyes,” he told you, shaking it, “He insisted on comin’ here. What’d he do and how much do I owe you?”

“Nothin’ like that, sir,” you said, shaking your head, “Just a… **surprise**.” You turned to McCree. “How did you know where I worked?”

“I may have…seen your schedule thing…before you took me to get my stuff,” he said with a shrug. “ **Which**!” He held up his hand to Gabriel, whose polite look had disappeared behind one of annoyance. “Was voluntary and under the condition that I didn’t do anything bad and proved a point.”

“A  **disturbing**  point, to which I repeat: get out,” you snapped. Reyes pinched the bridge of his nose.

“ _Estoy muy viejo para aguantar estas chingaderas_ ,” he muttered. He grabbed McCree by the arm and hauled him to the door, as if he were a bag of clothes and not a six foot tall man. “Let’s leave the poor lady alone and not  **bother**  her anymore with  **our**  problem,” he growled. Reyes looked over his shoulder at you. “It was nice to meet you,” he said with a small smile. You flicked your hand in a wave, face scrunched in confusion.

“Likewise, I think, Mr. Werewolf  _Papi_ …” you said quietly. Jesse released a cackle as Reyes hunched his shoulders up to his ears. The older man shoved McCree forward, shouting something in such rough Spanish that you couldn’t catch it. You shrugged and checked the time, pulling your gate down before either one of them could turn around and come back. It was such a weird ass day. You needed to go home and get some sleep. “Maybe this is just some trippy dream,” you said to yourself as you turned back to the desk.

“What the fuck did you do?” Reyes hissed as the two walked back out to his car. Jesse kicked a stray paper cup, watching it skitter far across the road.

“I camped out in the garage, that’s what. And…changed back in the morning and got caught,” he mumbled. God, he felt like a child again, getting reprimanded for messing up during a change. Last time he had gotten caught was it was by Anput. Well…Ms. Amari. Granted, Ana never let him live it down. She still gave him shit whenever she saw him, calling him  _jru_  every chance she got. Her daughter,  ~~Kebechet~~  Fareeha did the same thing and it drove him nuts.

Reyes pulled McCree out of his thoughts with a well-placed flick to the ear. “Think before you have to change,  _idiota_ ,” he grumbled, “Don’t wanna hear about you being caught in a pound or somethin’.”

“Aww,  _‘apa_ , you  **do**  care.”

“Shut up.”


	4. Lucio

It was almost three weeks before you saw any sign of McCree again.

And by “any sign”, that meant someone brought him up to you. At random. Someone you didn’t even know.

You were grocery shopping, staring at the wall of food stuffs in front of you, forgetting what you were staring at and stepping into your Space Cadet boots. Someone tapped your shoulder, making you jump. The man in question waved his hands and jumped back.

“Woah! I’m sorry to scare ya!” he exclaimed. His dreads bobbed into his eyes, knocking against the green tinted sunglasses he still wore. “I thought ya heard me approach!”

“No, I uh….I didn’t,” you stuttered. You took a step back and gripped your basket. “Can I help you with something?”

He asked what your name was, which only raised your suspicions about him. He gave you an apologetic smile and stepped back even more, far out of arms reach. “My name is Lúcio. I’m a friend of McCree’s.”

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your mouth. He laughed. “I don’t want to talk about him,” you said, picking a box of food off the shelves in front of you. You started to walk down the aisle, Lúcio following close behind you. “Are all you…furry creatures things—” wow because that sounded much better than saying werewolves out loud, “Hard of hearing or something? Because I’m pretty sure I said I didn’t want to talk about him.”

“I’m not like McCree. Or Reyes,” Lúcio said. He followed you around the corner and down the cookie aisle. Looking around, he stepped close and whispered, “I’m something better.”

“If you say you’re a vampire I swear to God I will beat you with a pack of Oreos,” you deadpanned. He snorted.

“No. That’s the old man. Hilarious, too. Did you know that the whole undead thing comes with sensors not being able to detect you? Automatic doors are a pain, he has to wait for someone else to walk past for him to get inside some places. It’s kinda funny.”

You stared at him with the blankest stare you could muster as he talked. Slowly, his words died out. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Do I look like a supernatural safe haven to you?” you said with as much enthusiasm as your Oreo comment.

“Well…I mean Reyes kinda came clean with ya and if that  _cara_  trusts you than I guess I can?” he offered. You rolled your eyes and continued down the aisle, dumping the Oreos into your basket. He followed you.

“Do you  **all**  talk to each other?”

“Kinda. Not too many people like us in the area.”

“So you  **are**  like Jesse.” You turned to him, swinging a bag of Milano cookies in his direction. Lúcio laughed.

“No, I’m not,” he said. He looked around the aisle again. “I’m Nencatacoa,” he said, puffing his chest slightly.

“Who?”

He immediately deflated. “Wow. That hurts a little. But that’s okay. Guess I’m not well known around these parts,” he said with a shrug. He continued to follow you as you weaved through the aisles, keeping a slow pace. He babbled about the work that past incarnations of Nencatacoa had done, how they had helped people. You had to admit, you were impressed with his work. Lúcio often volunteered with flood and hurricane relief projects across both North and South America. He was in town to visit a few friends and had gotten a call from McCree.

You stopped and turned to him at the name. “What does he want?” you asked.

Lúcio grinned. “Well, he wanted to know if he could come by and see you sometime.”

“Why?”

“Uh….Well probably because he likes you? I dunno, I was just told to come and ask you,” he admitted. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “What can I tell him?”

“You can tell him that if he wants to ask me to hang out or anything, he can ask me himself,” you replied, a tight smile spreading across your face, “He’s a big boy.”

Lúcio gave you a quick salute and turned towards the door. “Will do,  _boneca_. See you around,” he sang. You stared after him in confusion.

“And tell the rest of your supernatural weirdo friends that I’m not their confidant!!”


	5. A Date?

You had no idea where you were supposed to meet McCree, now that you thought about it. Granted, you had said he could ask you himself, and you weren’t going to back down from that. But. If you were going to meet him. Somewhere. You weren’t. Sure. Where that somewhere. Would be.

You tapped your fingers against your coffee cup as you thought, staring blindly at the door to the café you sat in. You were still having trouble wrapping your head around the whole situation. You found what you thought was a dog wandering the streets in the middle of the night and woke up in the morning to find a naked man sprawled out on the baby-girl-pink blanket you had put out for him. And he said he was a werewolf. And showed you a video of him changing. Shifting? What would that be called? And introduced you to his dad. Kinda. He didn’t really look like Reyes though. Step-dad? Adoptive dad? Hot dad, though, you had to admit that to yourself. And then there was Lúcio, who was also a creature but a spirit? You looked it up and he was a good guy? And who was this old man that he talked about too?

How many of them were there?

You sipped your coffee and cringed when you realized that it had gone cold.

A cup slid across your table. You blinked at it and looked up.

There he sat, clean smelling and properly dressed. A cowboy hat sat on the table next to him. “Thought you saw me sit down,” he said, “And that…I’ve been sittin’ here for a while.”

“Uh…no. No I didn’t,” you admitted. You took the new coffee cup and held it close. It was warm. “What is this?”

“Asked them if they could remake your order. Since you’ve were spacin’ harder than a keyboard,” McCree said with a shrug. You sipped the drink, giving him a withering glare over the cup.

“That was awful,” you said, “Your statement. Not the coffee. Thanks.”

He grinned and leaned back in his seat.

“How did you know I was here?” you quickly asked. McCree picked a piece of fuzz off his hat.

“I was in the area. Friend of mine owns a place down here,” he said. You glanced out the front windows. That was vague. There were a ton of businesses in the area. You were tempted to ask which one, but felt that would be too weird.

“Just as long as you’re not doing that weird stalking thing that…people like you do in novels,” you said. You took another long sip from your coffee, relaxing as the warmth spread through your body. “Because I will hurt you if you are,” you added.

He grinned at you. “No, really. Friend is Angela. She runs a free clinic down here. She’s an angel,” he said.

You didn’t know if he was being literal or not.

“So why did you come here?” you asked, “Like…in here. In the café.”

“Saw you from outside,” he answered, “Lúcio gave me your message.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t kidding about the confidant thing, by the way. I’m not gonna be a supernatural magnet. I’m not about that life.” You picked up your bag and stood. McCree scrambled to his feet, planting his hat on his head.

“I wanted ta see if you were free this weekend!” he choked out. You looked up at him, urging him to go on with a wave of your hand. “Fer dinner,” he clarified, “Or somethin’. Lunch if that’s better.”

You stared at him long and hard. “You want to go get food with me?” you asked slowly. He rubbed his neck and nodded, shoving his prosthetic hand into his back pocket. “I mean…Somewhere not too expensive is fine with me. I guess.”

“Wait, are you sayin’ yes?”

“I’m not saying no to free food,” you replied, “And you’re nice enough. I guess.” You fidgeted. “And you can explain more of this to me because  **wow**  am I having a hard time processing all of this.”

Jesse McCree gave you the brightest smile you had ever seen. “Done.”

He agreed to pick you up at one in the afternoon on Friday.


	6. Yeah, A Date.

He was at your door at 12:55, ringing the doorbell one too many times before you opened it. You tugged down your shirt nervously once you opened it.

“Howdy,” he said when you opened the door. You almost shut it on his face. He slapped his hand against it with a laugh. “Okay, okay. You don’t appreciate the whole cowboy aesthetic. I get it.”

“Is it an aesthetic or is it you being obnoxious?” you asked him. You grabbed your things and walked out, shutting the door behind you. He grinned at you.

“Both? One happens because of the other?” he offered. You squinted up at him. He just shrugged. “Are we gonna get food?”

“Yeah…there’s a place not too far that’s pretty good. We can walk and you can tell me about this…” you waved your hand at his general person as you talked. He made a face at you.

“Lead the way then,” he mumbled. You laughed. You started walking north, pulling your coat closer to your body. He followed. “So what is it you wanna know?” he asked after a few steps.

“I guess….how?” you asked. You waved your hands. “How did you become a werewolf?”

McCree rubbed his neck, making a sound as he thought over his answer. “Well um…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!”

“No, no, I said I would,” he said with a grin. He shrugged and tinkered with his prosthetic fingers. “I was….eight. I think? Uh…In a group home. Well, I mean, I was staying in a group home and I snuck out with a bunch of the older kids because I was a little punk,” he explained.

“You were…an orphan?” you offered, fidgeting. Jesse gave you a wry smile.

“Abandoned. But I might as well have been an orphan,” he said. He pulled his hat off and scratched his head. “But uh…we all snuck out to the park. There was a dog. The older kids thought it would be funny to annoy it by throwing rocks at it and…well…I was the smallest, and I couldn’t run very fast.” He waved his hand at you. “Well I ended up in the ER, then the ICU. Reyes came and got me after that. He’s my legal guardian…er, was. I guess.” He laughed. “I’m too old to say that I guess. But he’s really my dad.”

“So you lost your arm to a…changed werewolf?” you asked. Jesse nodded. “And  _Papi_  Reyes came and found you.”

He groaned. “Do you have to call him that? It’s so creepy,” he said. You laughed. “But…yes, that’s what happened. He taught me about all the stuff. Helped me through my first change. Legally adopted me before my ninth birthday.”

You smiled at the look on his face. “What else is out there?”

He whistled. “That,” he said, “Is a conversation for another date.” He led the way up the rest of the block and opened the door to the place you mentioned. You gave him a long, hard look.

“Another date, huh?” you asked. He nodded. You patted his chest as you walked in. “We’ll see how this one goes first.”

McCree grinned as he followed after you. “That ain’t a no,” he sang.


	7. This Ain't Twilight

It had been a few days since you saw or heard from Jesse McCree. You thought he had dipped out of your life in the same style that he had appeared: suddenly and for no reason. When he did finally reappear, it was a few nights before the next full moon. He was antsy, moving around on your front porch like he was stalking something. You stared at him through the screen door for a long time before he managed to notice you.

“Oh hey, you’re home,” he sighed.

You pushed the screen door open with a frown. “Is everything okay?” You stepped aside to let him inside, watching as he stalked passed you, shoulders and arms tense. He was holding his bag in his white knuckled grip. “Jesse?”

“Somethin’s happenin’ with some of the others,” he whispered. He swung the bag onto your couch, turning to you with a groan. He dragged a hand through his hair, knocking his hat off onto the floor. “A friend a mine, his name is Reinhardt. He uh…he bit my dad. Like. Savagely bit him.”

“Okay…?” you said slowly, crossing your arms.

“Like dad ended up in the E.R. because of it,” he added.

You made a small sound of understanding, looking down at your socked feet.

Jesse crossed the room and gripped your shoulders, drawing your attention back up to him. “Look, I don’t,” he started. He took a deep breath through his nose, nostrils flaring, fingers pressing tighter into your shoulders. “I don’t want ya to get hurt, okay? By me or by anyone else.”

“This is starting to sound strangely like  _Twilight_  and I am urging you right now to shut the fuck up,” you said. Jesse snorted with laughter. You smiled. “Look, I know you’re not human. I get that. You’re big, bad, and scary,” you said with a trill to your voice, “But I also have a mad swing and plenty of things that can be used as blunt weapons. I think I can take care of myself.”

“But listen,” he cut in, brows knit together, watching the amusement drain from your face, “If I do start to act weird come the next full moon…”

“I’ll lock you in my garage and keep an eye out,” you said slowly. Jesse nodded, releasing your shoulders, leaving behind aching marks. You rolled them. “If you wanna go somewhere else, you can. Literally, nothing is keeping you from changing here. Hell, I didn’t even say you could.”

“That was gonna be my next point,” McCree said with a shit eating grin. “Can I stay here through the next full moon?”

“Why?”

“Because your garage beats the desert.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”


	8. Death on Sharp Canines

You hadn’t seen Jesse McCree in over a month. At first, you were concerned. This kid that didn’t know when to quit just suddenly vanished without so much as a ‘bye’. Then you started to forget, stopped turning whenever you saw some burly brown haired man walking past you, stopped wondering if every howl was something other than an actual dog.

Then the full moon came.

You were late getting home that night, pulling into your drive way well after nightfall. The desert air was cool for once, and you shrugged on your coat as you made your way to your front door.

There was a growl behind you, low enough to not hear but to feel deep in your bones. You paused at your front door, hesitating, holding your keys tight in your palm.

Maybe you had imagined it? Maybe it was something that was just in your head. The whole werewolf thing had made you a little jumpy as the full moon approached.

The growl came again, much closer, much deeper, and much more terrifying. You whirled around to see something large and full of fur turning the corner of a house across the street, disappearing into the dark side yard. You could still hear the crunching of the lava rocks underneath its feet. Looking both ways, you darted across the street.

‘This is a really bad idea’ part of you screamed as you attempted to sneak across the lava rocks of your neighbor’s yard, which seemed to be an impossible feat. Another part of you screamed at the thrill and adrenaline that ran through you at the thought of possibly seeing a werewolf up close and in real life.

Then you thought about that and stopped at the corner.

A werewolf. Real thing. Wolves themselves were terrifying enough to see in real life but a werewolf? You didn’t know anything about them beyond media and what little McCree had told you when he was around. You pressed into the corner of the house and took in a deep breath.

You moved to turn back.

Something large and warm and snarling slammed into your side. You slid across the lava rocks and tumbled into the street. When you looked up, the large, lumbering wolf in question was hunkering down, teeth bared in a snarl.

Nope. This was a really bad idea.

Werewolf McCree was going to kill you.


	9. Sombra

By the time morning rolled around, you were curled up at your dining table, clutching your cup with bandaid covered fingers. Jesse lowered himself into the seat next to you with two full bowls of cereal in hand. Reyes was across from him on your other sides, scrubbing his face over his hands with a loud yawning groan.

And across from you was a highly amused girl of indiscriminate age and purple hair.

“You can call me Sombra,” she purred, taking the second bowl from Jesse without a glance to him.

You stared at her tiredly, thinking about how her voice made the scrapes and bruises on your side ache. “There’s two of them,” you mumbled. “You bring two of them into my house and expect me to be all chill about it,  _papí_?” you asked.

Reyes released a bark of laughter, doubling over into the table when Jesse choked on his cereal. Sombra shot you a grin full of teeth.

“I like them.”

“I’d say the same thing but you threw me into the street with a headbutt in the middle of the night, so sorry if I’m a little bitter,” you replied. Reyes propped his chin up in his hand, spinning the cup of coffee he had been nursing in slow circles.

“In my defense, she was following Jesse’s scent. He marked this whole damn block.”

“That’s disgusting, Jesse McCree,” you grumped.

He dropped his spoon to the table and lifted the bowl to his lips, drinking down the milk in three gulps and a loud, satisfied sigh. “In my defense, there’s a lot of scary shit in town and I wanted to protect my date so you can bite me.”

“Would they turn into a werewolf if they bit McCree?” Sombra asked, waving her spoon around between you and the aforementioned boy. “If they broke skin.”

You shoved your chair out from the table and turned to the doorway. “It is too fuckin’ early for this shit, please. Someone. Wake me up in a few hours when my brain has had a chance to relax from this nonsense.”

Jesse leaned back in his chair to watch you walk down the hall to your room, letting out a very quiet but appreciative hum. “We’ll still be here!” he called.

“Peachy,” you droned.

Sombra slurped at the milk in her bowl, eyeing the two men she was left at the table with. When she had drank the last of it, she set it down and wiped her mouth. “I like them,” she repeated.


	10. The Babysitter

You were so done. So. Fucking. Done.

“What do you  **mean**  I am getting a ‘babysitter’?” you snapped. You had McCree cornered against your counter with the spoon in your hand jabbing into his bare, sweaty chest. You would have been distracted, maybe even doing other things that you had been thinking about doing with the werewolf for a while now, but he had just let himself into your house, started helping himself to your cereal  **again**  while loudly declaring that you were getting a  **babysitter**. “Do I  **look**  twelve to you?” you asked, poking his sternum with the spoon.

“Well no, obviously, but—”

“So why the fuck do I need a babysitter?” you interrupted.

He lifted his hands from the counter. “Look, hun, if you could just lower the spoon—”

“I will lower the spoon when I damn well feel like it, Jesse McCree, and right now I don’t feel like it.” You jabbed him again and stepped closer. The smell of his sweat hit you and you almost stepped back. “Why do you smell like a rotting hole in the desert?” you asked.

“You are such a ray of sunshine in the morning, did you know that?” McCree said. He smirked as your expression soured more. “I was out in the desert.”

“Rolling in trash rot?”

“Now that was just uncalled for,” he said. He shrugged his shoulders, his hair sticking to his forehead. “Reyes and I gotta head somewhere.”

“So?”

“We’re takin’ Sombra with us.”

“Again. So?”

“So, yer gonna be alone here and there’s some weird shit happenin’ out there that I’d like you to avoid,” he said. He was frowning. Your brow furrowed. “Like weird supernatural shit.”

“I can take care of myself,” you said. He very purposefully looked down at your spoon. You lifted it and smooshed it against his nose. “Okay, tough werewolf macho man, who is gonna be ‘protecting’ me while you’re gone. Do I need to feed them? Because I don’t think I have enough cereal anymore,” you said.

“His name’s Jack. And no. Ya don’t. He would just like to crash on your couch while we’re gone,” McCree said. You flung the spoon into the sink, earning a pout from him. “I was gonna use that.”

“Then use another one,” you said. You fell into one of the chair at your table, suddenly tired. “Why do I need protecting?” you asked again. You heard McCree emptying your last box of cereal and throwing the box in the trash. He opened your fridge for the milk.

“Because there’s weird shit,” he answered. You took a deep breath through your nose, ready to argue with him again. “And it’s right across the street.”

“What the fuck?”


	11. Enter Jack Morrison

You spent more time than you cared to admit sitting in your front room, peeking out through your curtains to the house across the street. You even had your hood up, for good measure, just in case whoever or whatever was in the house happened to see you. Maybe you were a pillow. Maybe you were a piece of furniture. Who knows? The occupant of the house across the street sure as hell didn’t.

“Don’t you have a job or something?” The question came from the tired man on your couch who was peering at you over his glasses. You made a grunt of acknowledgement to his question. “You’ve been spending too much time with Jesse.”

“I have today  **off** ,” you snapped. You glanced over your shoulder at him, scrunching your nose and curling your upper lip. “‘Spending too much time with Jesse’ maybe  **you’re** spending too much time with Jesse,” you shot back.

Jack Morrison arched a greying eyebrow at you. “Yeah. Because I’m the one mocking the other in the room right now,” he pointed out. You turned your gaze back to the window and ignored his statement. You sat up straighter, throwing all hopes of remaining unseen out the window. Jack noticed the change in your position. “What is it?”

“There’s people walking out of the house,” you commented. You frowned as you watched them, glancing over only when Jack had lowered himself next to you, knees cracking.

There were two men, brothers by the looks of them, and they were walking around to the garage door in front of the house. One was shorter than the other, with broad shoulders and arms thick with muscle. The other was taller but leaner, the definition more obvious in his legs than his arms. The first lifted the garage door. It rolled and rattled up to the ceiling. Inside was an array of equipment: weights and cable stations for working out, a heavy bag to box with, and a peg board wall filled with a variety of hunting bows.

Jack swore and dropped to the floor, making sure he was completely out of sight of the window. You looked down at him. “What?” you asked. You looked back at the pair. “There’s nothing scary about them. People bow hunt here during season.”

He shot you a withering glare. “Close the damn shutters,” he commanded. You stood without question and swung them shut, tugging the curtains out of the way. He stood and peeked between the slats. “They’re hunters.”

“No shit. I just said that,” you commented, crossing your arms. Jack was tense, ready to pounce, and you dropped your arms. “Oh. Hunters.”

“Why didn’t Reyes tell me about this if he knew?” Jack muttered to himself.

You balled the sleeves of your sweatshirt into your palm. “He might not have known. Jesse only said that there was something weird going on in town. He didn’t say much more about it. I thought maybe you would know.”

“Disappearances,” was the answer. Jack closed the shutter and stepped away, running his hands through his short, ash blonde hair. “There’s been disappearances in the community.” He ignored your snort and repetition of the word ‘community’ like it wasn’t a weird thing. “People have been going missing. Families. Despite what popular media says, we’re not all monsters.”

“Technically…” You snapped your mouth closed at the glare he gave you.

“We thought people were leaving because of a threat. But…hunters. That would explain a lot.”

You stepped back towards the shutters and tugged them down carefully, peeking through the slats at the house across the street. “Who are they?”

“The Shimada brothers,” Jack finally answered, “And they indiscriminate on who they take out.”

You looked up at him hesitantly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that if they find out you know what we are, you’ll be at the top of their hit list,” he answered. He peeked through the slats again. “They don’t take kindly to sympathizers of the supernatural.”

Your stomach dropped.


	12. The Hunters: Shimada

Jack Morrison was so fucking tired of baby-sitting you that he resorted to finding the only bottle of booze in your house. When you asked him why, he stared you dead in the face and very openly expressed his opinion.

“You’re just as much of a menace as that damn kid of his and if I’m going to get through this with a little sanity, you’ll indulge me.”

You sat back and indulged him and remembered exactly  **why**  he was saying this to you.

Ah yes.

That morning.

The morning that preceded the afternoon that Jack Morrison told you that you were a menace.

The morning that you walked across the street with a plate of slightly burnt, but good quantity and variety, of cookies and rang. The mother. Fucking. Door bell.

Belonging to the Shimadas.

The younger one opened the door, looking back over his shoulder to shout something into the house, before turning and stopping at the sight of you. You held up the carefully wrapped plate of cookies with the biggest smile you could muster, hoping he would notice that you never put a bow on the plate. A bow.

“Can I help you?” he asked slowly, looking between you and the plate cookies as if one of them were on his doorstep to kill him.

You pouted at his expression and lowered the plate with a grumbled introduction. “I live across the street,” you elaborated. You turned and swung the plate in the direction of your front door. The plate did not leave your hands nor did it fall. He seemed to be amazed at this. “I thought I’d welcome you guys to the neighborhood,” you said. You tilted the plate this way and that in an exaggerated manner. “You know. Be  **neighborly** ,” you added.

He stepped over the threshold and carefully took the plate from you. “You are very kind to do so,” he said slowly. He lifted his hand from the top of the wrapped cookies to contemplate the crushed bow. “Thank you,” he murmured, “My name is Genji.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said with a grin. He returned the smile hesitantly.

“Would you like to come in?” he asked. He even stepped back against his front door, giving you an unobstructed view of the hall way leading into the living room.

You shrugged and looked back at your house. “I would, but I have a dog that has major anxiety issues and is probably already crying because I’ve been gone for so long. But another time?” you asked.

Genji’s face relaxed, amused by your statement. “Another time,” he agreed. You stepped back and waved at him, looking both ways before crossing the street. When you had walked inside was when Jack stared you down while pulling the bottle of alcohol from your cupboard.

“Maybe I am a menace,” you whispered to yourself, staring at the wood grain of your table.

“It’s a thinking robot,” Jack muttered darkly into his glass.

“I thought old people were supposed to be nice.”

“This is me being nice,” he shot back.

You tilted your head as he downed the glass in one gulp. “Touché.”


	13. Standoff

“You know, I was really, totally, from the bottom of my heart, rooting for you guys and then you do this. You come into my home, knock out my guard dog—”

“He is not a pet—”

“Hey, you kidnapped me, you deal with my fucking monologue or swap my blindfold for a gag, you two-toned-undercut-hipster-wannabe.” You cleared your throat, shaking your head to adjust the way the blindfold sat on your face. “As I was saying before I was so  **rudely interrupted**.”

“They are right, Hanzo, I was very intrigued by their monologue.”

There was a frustrated silence that followed.

You cleared your throat again, much louder this time. “You come into my home, knock out my guard dog and take me to fuck knows where, probably the desert because, let’s face it, where else are two mysterious men going to take a defenseless person they just kidnapped  **but**  out into the wasteland that is probably hiding at least one cryptid creature and a dozen alien civilizations.” You took a deep breath and released it very slowly. “Okay, monologue done, you can continue, Mr. Two-toned-undercut-hipster-wannabe.”

Sweat dripped down your forehead and you shook your head again.

“Perhaps we should find a gag for them,” Hanzo suggested.

“Then you try to gag them, Mr. Two-toned-undercut-hipster-wannabe, as they tried to  **bite** me when I attempted to do so earlier,” Genji shot back. You heard a crunch and a satisfied sigh.

“Are those the cookies I made?” you asked in the direction of the sound.

“They are, yes,” Genji answered around a mouthful of cookie, “Thank you for the baked goods.”

“Aw, you’re welcome, Mr. I-have-some-fucking-human-decency.”

“I like them,” Genji said after he swallowed. “Perhaps we should let them go?” It was a suggestion that earned dead silence. The wind rushed past your ears and the metal under your butt was far too warm. They really had taken you out to the desert.

Mild panic started to set in.

“After we dragged them out here, you want to take them home?” Hanzo asked slowly. Genji must have shrugged, for Hanzo muttered, “Unbelievable.”

Genji moved to sit next to you and pressed a cookie to your lips. You opened your mouth with a loud sound.

“Don’t sit on the hood of the car,” Hanzo snapped.

“One, it is my car,” Genji shot back, “And two, they are sitting on the hood of the car so  **I’ll** sit on the hood of the car.”

“I like you,” you said through a mouthful of cookie. “Can we be friends after this Mr. I-have-some-fucking-human-decency?”

“Sure,” Genji answered. He crunched through a cookie. “If we don’t kill you.”

Oh. Well that ruined that suggestion. You swallowed your cookie and fell silent, drumming your bound hands against the hot hood. “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Being captured has not prevented you from talking thus far,” Hanzo pointed out in annoyance.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you replied. You licked your lips and tossed your head again. “Why are you guys here? Seriously? And why go through the trouble of catching me? It doesn’t make sense. You could have killed Jack and gotten it over with in my house.”

“We are not after you,” Genji said. He nudged your shoulder with his. “We are after the werewolves McCree and Reyes and Sombra.”

“Why?” You turned your head towards his voice. “They haven’t done anything.”

“They’ve killed many people,” Hanzo replied. He was moving closer to you until he stopped right in front of your legs. “Many of our people.”

You would have squinted at him if you could see. “That doesn’t make sense,” you thought out loud. “Jesse is an idiot, yeah, but let’s face it, he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. Sombra is a brat but she wouldn’t kill anyone for fun. Profit maybe, but not for fun. And Reyes is too nice. To me, anyway. I can’t see him just…killing people.” You shrugged your shoulders and frowned. “What if you have the wrong people?” you asked.

“We don’t,” Hanzo answered. He moved until he was leaning next to you. “We aren’t wrong.”

“What if you are?” you suggested.

“We’re not.”

“You are.” The voice was neither of the Shimada brothers. You tried to crane your neck towards it but it was coming from behind you, from behind the car. Both Genji and Hanzo moved away from the vehicle. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.” It was Reyes. That sounded like Reyes. “But they’re one of ours. We’d like them back.”

“We’ll release them when you’re dead,” Genji mused.

Flesh hit solid flesh and someone went down into the dirt. There was a growl, a shot, a twag and the sound of something shooting through the air. “Hey,  **hey**! Watch where yer shootin’ that!” Jesse. He was here. You squirmed around on the hood of the car.

“McCree!” you called.

Someone else hit the ground hard, air escaping their chest. “Three against two.” Sombra. “Hardly a fair fight. Especially when we know this place.”

“Kill us and get it over with,” Hanzo spat. You kicked the grill of the car to try and get someone’s attention. “Like you did with the others.”

“We didn’t kill no one,” McCree snapped. He was next to you, leaning into your legs to reach behind your head. You had never been happier to see him than you were when the blindfold fell from your eyes. He grinned at you. “Hey cutie.”

“Oh shut up, McCree,” you sighed, relieved.

You heard Reyes’s knees crack as he knelt over the submissive Hanzo. He held his hand out to the hunter. “We haven’t killed anyone,” he said. Hanzo squinted at his hand. “But we know who did,” Reyes added. Hesitantly, Hanzo took the offered help and stood.

“Who?” Genji asked. He rolled backwards over his shoulders to stand. McCree quietly scoffed ‘show off’. You lightly kicked his legs. The cowboy grinned at you.

“Not who,” Sombra said before Reyes had a chance. “ _La bruja._ ”

“A witch?” you asked.

Sombra shrugged.

Jesse reached around you to untie your hands. “Close,” he whispered, “But a  _bruja_  is a little different. And that’s just what we’re thinkin’ it is.” The tie fell from your hands and you rubbed your wrists.

“Lovely,” was your dull response.


	14. And They Were Roomates

You stared at the pile of bags that had accumulated in your living room practically overnight. And McCree was walking in with more.

“Um?” you asked, motioning your hands to the things in front of you.

He dropped more on the ground with a grin. “I’m movin’ in.”

“Pardon?” You shouted the word; it came involuntarily at this statement.

Jesse had the audacity to laugh. “Gotta keep you safe, don’t I?”

“No, you don’t,” you replied, incredulous.

“I practically live here anyway,” he pointed out, motioning to the garage, “And you have an extra room.”

“Yeah, for guests,” you emphasized. You stepped into the hall to block his way. He just picked you up and moved you aside before he started hauling bags towards the spare bedroom. You turned around and followed him. “Do I even get a say in this, you prick?” you asked.

“I mean, you’re getting’ a say in it now, aren’t ya?” he asked. He threw some of the bags on the bed and opened the closet.

“I’m protesting, actually,” you said. You picked up the bags from the bed.

He took them from your hands and put them back where he had dropped them. “Do you want to be on the wrong end of a witch?” he asked.

“You said it wasn’t a witch, but a  _bruja_ ,” you snapped. You rolled the r violently and planted your hands on your hips. “So is that what you’re here for? To be a permanent guard?”

“Well, not permanent, but until we know it’s safe,” he replied. He brushed past you to grab another set of bags. You groaned.

“You know, this means you have to help around here!” you shouted after him.

“I ain’t opposed to ground rules, roomie!” McCree sang. You groaned again and covered your face with your hands.


	15. Domesticated

Living with McCree was an honest to god nightmare. He sang in the shower, his hair clogged the drain more than yours, he put the milk AND juice back in the fridge with just a little swig left, he ate your favorite cereal? When would the madness end?!

You contemplated this from the safety of your room, curled up under the covers, staring blankly at the wall across from you. There was a knock on your door that made you curl up more. 

“Hey there roomie,” he called hesitantly. You groaned at him. He padded across the floor and sat heavily on your bed. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” you muttered.

Jesse patted your leg. “I made breakfast,” he replied hesitantly. You sat up, staring at him with squinted, exhausted eyes. He grinned. “It’s one of those big, hearty, southern breakfasts, too.”

“Where do you get the money for this stuff?” you asked as you climbed out of bed.

He jumped up. “Uh….a job?”

You stared at him, watching as he made his way into the hallway and down to the kitchen. “You have a job?” you finally asked. He pouted. You walked after him, glancing down at his feet as your heard the softest of jingles, and saw that he wore slippers. They had little spur shaped bells on them. “What do you do?”

“We’ve been friends this long and you don’t even know what I do?” Jesse asked. He pressed a hand to his chest and dragged a finger down his cheek. “I’m hurt.”

You sank into a chair at the table, staring at the large amount of food before you. “I’m gonna take a stab in the dark and say you’re something, I dunno, trade like?”

McCree stared at you, fork poised over the stack of pancakes in the middle of the table, eyebrow arched as he stared at you. “Are you makin’ assumptions because I’m a werewolf?” he asked slowly. You snatched the top pancake while he stared at you. “Do I look like one of them literature werewolves?”

“Depends, are we talking about Twilight?” you shot back.

Jesse dramatically rocked back in the seat, pressing a hand to his forehead with a high pitched scoff. “Well I never!”

You snorted. You filled your plate with food, glancing up when you felt his eyes on you. “What?” you asked.

“Is this a good apology breakfast?” he finally asked. You stopped, sitting up further.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I forced my way in here, you know?” McCree fidgeted. “I was just worried. I know there’s those hunter guys across the way, but  _brujas_  are nasty business and I don’t want you to hafta deal with any of that by yerself.”

You stared. “It’s fine.” You shrugged, motioning to the table full of food. “You keep doing this, and maybe, you know, start restocking the fridge when you use up things, and I won’t even complain.”

“Even if I happen to shed on the couch during the full moon?”

“You’re vacuuming that up yourself.”


	16. Knowledge

You pounded on the door of the Shimadas’ for what felt like hours, until the side of your hand grew numb, until Hanzo finally opened the door with the most annoyed look on his face.

“What do you want?” he snapped.

You shoved a plastic container of sushi against his chest and walked inside the house. “Here, I brought you an offering.”

He stared at it, tilted it as he stared at the contents inside. “You got this on sale at the grocery store,” he pointed out as he shut the door, “And it’s expired.”

“Whoops.” You looked around the house, past the small entry way, and made a bee line for the large and cheap collection of bookshelves that lined one wall of the living room. “Is this all you have on the supernatural?”

“Is this your offering for knowledge? How cheap.”

“Did you see the two hundred and fifty pound roommate I have? My bills have gone up, cheap sushi is all I can afford,” you snapped. You stared at the shelves. “What’s this  _bruja_ about?”

“Your paperweight of a roommate did not tell you?” Hanzo drawled.

You leveled him with a glare. Your face hurt, your eyes burned, you were so exhausted just standing there. “I don’t wanna play games,” you said, “I like Jesse. I like these people. I don’t want them to get hurt. Okay?” You shrugged, which turned into a slow roll of your shoulders. Something deep in your back popped. All the while, you stared at him. “Prove you’re not the big baddie you say are,” you said.

Hanzo heaved the heaviest of sighs. It was disgusted, annoyed, and rattled deep in his chest. He crossed the living room to the bookshelves.

He started with the basics.

You returned home maybe hours later. McCree was, also, returning home. He wore a nice white button down and black trousers, both of which were awful when it came to trying to hide his muscular figure.

You squinted at him.

He squinted back.

“Where do you work?” you demanded.

He pointed at you. You stared at the tip of his prosthetic finger, then at his arm. His whole prosthetic was a shade lighter than he was. “None of your damn business, cutie,” he answered.

You inched past him and snatched the house keys out of his hands on the way. He only followed you up to the door.

“What were you doin’ over at the Shimada place?” he ask.

You unlocked the door slowly, staring at it, pushing it open slowly. The lights were all off. It was cold. “Learning,” you answered. You flicked on the lights. You dropped both sets of keys onto the counter and turned to Jesse. “Hey, wanna invite Sombra and Reyes over? I can order pizza or something?” you asked.

Jesse tutted, his hands hesitating over your shoulders. “Hey, c’mon,” he murmured, “Talk to me.”

You hugged him instead, balled the fabric of his shirt into your hands and buried your face into his chest. His beard scrapped your temple as he lowered his head against yours. He said nothing.


	17. A-HEAD Of The Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this on 12/7/2018 - You've caught up!! This is everything that I've written for this series!! I'm going to start trying to get back into the swing of posting this series, which is normally on Saturdays! So, be on the look out!!

You wondered what was going to happen with the full moon. Jesse didn’t let you wonder. When the full moon came, he didn’t even go far. He went through the back door a human and trotted right back through a wolf. You stared at him as you sat at your kitchen table, slurping at your bowl of cereal. He was large – honestly, wolves were large, but you had never seen a wolf up close – and brown. You almost made a Twilight joke. He carefully set his prosthetic arm on the table across from you, then flopped onto the floor next to your chair.

“Comfortable?” you asked him.

He huffed at you, lifting his head to stare.

“At least you didn’t go out into the desert this time,” you pointed out.

He rolled over and whine, sticking his legs up into the air. You reached over and poked at his front paw pad. He squirmed, twisting around on the floor.

“What a goof,” you said with a laugh. You sighed and tilted your head, swirling your cereal around with a spoon. “You didn’t have to stay. I know you go running around with your dad and Sombra and stuff. I’ve got Genji and Hanzo across the street, they could come over, or I could go over there.”

Jesse huffed and rolled over, climbing carefully to his feet. You stared at him.

The lights, suddenly, went out. Jesse started to growl, the sound low in his chest and vibrating through the house. You stood, stumbling over the legs of your table, patting your way through the kitchen. You heard Jesse moving through your house towards the door, felt his growls growing louder. When you finally found a flashlight, you ran to his side. He snarled as you grabbed the door knob.

“What?” you asked. You glanced down at him, flicking the flashlight down at his face. He turned away, still growling, still shaking.

The lights came back on. You looked up. Your body shook. You grabbed the door and yanked it open, peering through the wrought iron screen door on the other side.

No one was there.

Across the street, you could see both Genji and Hanzo leaving their house, rushing across the road towards you, weapons at their sides. Their eyes were trained on your door. Jesse pressed his muzzle against the and growled.

You looked down. “What the fuck…?” you whispered. Unlocking the screen door, you eased it open slowly until Jesse forced his way through, all but pulling you outside.

There was a head on your porch. A wolf’s head. Jesse was sniffing it as the hunters approached, both of them slowing to a stop behind you.

“It’s a werewolf,” Genji remarked.

“How do you know?” you asked, looking back at him.

“We just do,” Hanzo answered.

You stared down at the head, swallowed a lump that had formed in your dry throat. “Well…shouldn’t they have changed back by now?” you asked, “Especially if they’re dead.”

“That’s the thing,” Genji said. He stepped next to you, wedging himself between you and Jesse, and prodded the head with his sheathed sword. It moved and squelched. “It should. But it’s not.” From the corner of your eye, you saw him look back at Hanzo.

“I believe a witch was on your doorstep tonight,” Hanzo whispered. You whirled around to look at him, shining the flashlight in his eyes. He lifted his hand to block the shine. “You may have been cursed.”

“Great,” you griped, “Just great.”


End file.
